


Leap

by helem



Category: The X-Files RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:02:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7267363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helem/pseuds/helem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David surprises Gillian at Streetcar</p><p>COMING SOON</p><p>*** TEASER NOW UP ***</p><p>***NOW COMPLETE***</p><p>Renamed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preview

**Author's Note:**

> A small tidbit from a oneshot I'm working on to whet your Gillovny appetites

The bar was not like any of his usual haunts on the occasions that he did decide to leave the house. The music was a bit too modern and the lighting was dim, but Vanessa was charming and he was currently engaged in a discussion with Ben about Tennessee Williams’ other work. Well, maybe engaged was too strong a word. He was genuinely interested in what Ben had to say, but David found it increasingly difficult to contribute anything useful as the smell of Gillian’s perfume or a hoot of her laughter or an accidental brush of her leg against his own had his thoughts drifting from literature to his incredibly talented, incredibly beautiful, and if he was being honest, incredibly fuckable best friend seated right next to him.  
At one point during her giggly chat with a rather tipsy Vanessa, she’d told a funny story about their days on The X-Files and had placed a hand on his thigh which she hadn’t removed and which seemed to be burning a hole through the denim of his jeans. He had to remind himself that it was only a gesture of affectionate nostalgia, but the mental pep talk was doing little to remove the very lucid image in his mind of her beneath him, naked as the day she was born, blonde hair fanned out like a halo, and her breasts bobbing as he rammed his aching cock into the wet tight heat of her pussy. Said cock, unfortunately, although aching terribly, was trapped in the confines of his pants, and the more alcohol coursed through his blood, the more the ache throbbed.  
Gillian brought an end to his superficial interaction with Ben by yawning loudly and laying her head on David’s shoulder. Automatically his arm went around her back, drawing her to him.  
“You okay, Gillybean?”  
She smiled blearily up at him. “I haven’t heard you call me that in a looong time.” She’d only had a small gin and tonic, but her usually abstinence from alcohol along with her petite frame had caused it t go straight to her head. “Mm’kay,” she mumbled through another yawn. “Jus’ sleepy.”  
He kissed her crown. “I’m also pretty beat. Let me call and Uber to my apartment and we can drop you at your hotel on the way. I want to make sure you get back alright. Where are you staying again?”  
“The Hilton.” He began punching in his Uber password. “Room 203.” 

... Later ...

She turned to face him, leaning against the lintel. “So, are you gonna kiss me goodnight?”  
He searched her eyes, trying to figure out where she was heading. She seemed to sober a little at his penetrating gaze and reached out to toy with the hem of his shirt. He decided to call her bluff. “Only if you’ll let me.”  
She looked up at him, startled at first but quickly recovered at the honesty and comfort in his eyes. “You know I can never say no to you,” she whispered. The hoarseness of her voice had increased with the alcohol and the late hour, and maybe even something more that he dare not even hope for.  
“You wanna come inside,” she asked boldly.  
“For a goodnight kiss?” he hedged, treading water.  
“Well, do you wanna do it in the hallway?”  
“With you I’d do it anywhere.”  
She blushed and he looked down sheepishly. They’d both felt that old spark ignite. Or maybe it had never gone out, just been forced to smolder beneath the surface.


	2. Leap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not entirely happy with the ending, but I've also been working on this for a while and kind of want it posted. If anyone thinks they could improve it, you're more than welcome to give me a shout. Enjoy, you wonderfully demented humans. I love you all.

“Gillian!”   
The rapping on her dressing room door was insistent so she knew it had to be urgent. All hands on deck understood that she needed this time to herself, to disappear into her safe space after the applause and the final curtain (so to speak), to wash away what remained of Blanche and find her centre of gravity as Gillian, before she was able to emerge into the whoops and fluorescence of backstage.   
“I’ll be a sec.”  
She quickly scooped up the wad of make-up removal wipes, tossing them into the can on her way to the door. She quickly tied the sash of the robe, took a deep breath, then yanked on the handle. A sweaty stage hand was tapping his foot impatiently, evidently needed above but sent off to deliver whatever message he was here to give her. She didn’t miss the dart of his eyes to her cleavage before he spoke and she drew the robe tighter around herself. How was she still able to have this effect on men – men, indeed, the same age as her daughter?  
“Gillian? David Duchovny’s here to see you. I’ve asked him to wait in wardrobe.” And with that he was off, jogging down the corridor.   
She quickly re-entered her space, her heart rate inexplicably accelerated. He was here. She quickly ran shaky fingers through her damp hair, a quick spritz of Chanel and into her booties. He was here.

* * *

He paced awkwardly around the dressing room as nameless performers wandered in and out, dropping off bits and pieces, trying not to stare too hard at him. He kept his gaze firmly on the floor. He was here for her. Only her. Not fifteen minutes ago he’d watched her run off the set. The tears in her eyes had brought tears to his own. She had not seen him but he’d seen her - god, had he seen her, her performance wrenching emotions from his heart that resonated throughout his entire being. He felt paralysed and at the same time ready to fly. And then he sensed her.  
She glided in, all silk and curls and everything in the background melted into nonsense. She was in his arms, her hands laced into his hair, her cold nose pressed under his jaw. He slowly pulled back, brushing blond waves from her bare face.   
“You came,” she whispered through a watery smile.  
“Of course I did.” He paused. “You were incredible. You filled that stage, the whole theatre with your energy. The whole audience felt it.” She ducked her head in modesty. “It’s true,” he added gently.  
“What brings you to New York?”  
“You.”  
She giggled coquettishly. “No, I mean- I thought you were on tour.”  
“We played our last gig on Thursday in Vienna.”  
“And now?”  
“Oh, you know. Press for Bucky. Aquarius is on again next month. The usual work bullshit.”  
She smiled at his wryness, subconsciously soothing him by scratching her nails along the nape of his neck. “I haven’t had a chance to read the new book,” she mused.  
He chuckled. “Don’t. Save yourself.”  
“Why do you always have to be so self depreciating?” she said, rolling her eyes and unlacing her hands to relax down to her normal height.  
“Why do you always have to give me shit for it?”  
They made eye contact and both sighed, choosing to avoid wasted time on another stale argument from the Dark Era. Life was too short.  
He grabbed the hand that was resting at her side and laced his fingers through hers, hoping his stubbornness hadn’t ruined the moment. “So, uh... have you eaten? I mean, I know it’s late... and, uh, and you must be exhausted...”  
She smiled at how this man, so eloquent usually, still occasionally stumbled awkwardly over his words with her. “Actually, it’s our day off tomorrow. Vanessa’s heard about some hip and happening bar that’s close by and has coerced Ben and I to join her. I said I’d only go for one drink though. Time off means time in my bed these days. Well, my hotel’s bed anyway. So, I have eaten, to answer your question. But how would you feel about joining me for that one drink?”  
Her raised eyebrow and hoarse post-performance voice were doing all sorts of thing to him and he struggled to focus on her words more than staring at the enticing movement of her lips. He dragged himself back to full consciousness and the piercing blue of her eyes at her question and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”   
They stood holding hands and smiling at each other for a good minute or two before she hurried back to her dressing room to change and freshen up.

* * *

The bar was not like any of his usual haunts on the occasions that he did decide to leave the house. The music was a bit too modern and the lighting was dim, but Vanessa was charming and he was currently engaged in a discussion with Ben about Tennessee Williams’ other work. Well, maybe engaged was too strong a word. He was genuinely interested in what Ben had to say, but David found it increasingly difficult to contribute anything useful as the smell of Gillian’s perfume or a hoot of her laughter or an accidental brush of her leg against his own had his thoughts drifting from literature to his incredibly talented, incredibly beautiful, and if he was being honest, incredibly fuckable best friend seated right next to him.   
At one point during her giggly chat with a rather tipsy Vanessa, she’d told a funny story about their days on The X-Files and had placed a hand on his thigh which she hadn’t removed and which seemed to be burning a hole through the denim of his jeans. He had to remind himself that it was only a gesture of affectionate nostalgia, but the mental pep talk was doing little to remove the very lucid image in his mind of her beneath him, naked as the day she was born, blonde hair fanned out like a halo, and her breasts bobbing as he rammed his aching cock into the wet tight heat of her pussy. Said cock, unfortunately, although aching terribly, was trapped in the confines of his pants, and the more alcohol coursed through his blood, the more the ache throbbed.  
Gillian brought an end to his superficial interaction with Ben by yawning loudly and laying her head on David’s shoulder. Automatically his arm went around her back, drawing her to him.   
“You okay, Gillybean?”   
She smiled blearily up at him. “I haven’t heard you call me that in a looong time.” She’d only had a small gin and tonic, but her usually abstinence from alcohol along with her petite frame had caused it to go straight to her head. “Mm’kay,” she mumbled through another yawn. “Jus’ sleepy.”  
He kissed her crown. “I’m also pretty beat. Let me call an Uber to my apartment and we can drop you at your hotel on the way. I want to make sure you get back alright. Where are you staying again?”  
“The Hilton.” He began punching in his Uber password. “Room 203.”   
He caught on and looked up as she failed to contain her drunken giggles. “Okay, lightweight. Let’s get you into bed.”

* * *

He decided it would be better to just get out once they stopped outside her hotel and make sure she got back to the right room. She wasn’t completely wasted but she was giggly and flirty. He didn’t mind a little more time with this uninhibited version of her. He placed a steadying hand on the small of her back as she figured out how to correctly insert her card into the lock. After two unsuccessful attempts, the light flickered green and the door swung open.   
She turned to face him, leaning against the lintel. “So, are you gonna kiss me goodnight?”  
He searched her eyes, trying to figure out where she was heading. She seemed to sober a little at his penetrating gaze and reached out to toy with the hem of his shirt. He decided to call her bluff. “Only if you’ll let me.”  
She looked up at him, startled at first but quickly recovered at the honesty and comfort in his eyes. “You know I can never say no to you,” she whispered. The hoarseness of her voice had increased with the alcohol and the late hour, and maybe even something more that he dare not even hope for.  
“You wanna come inside,” she asked boldly.  
“For a goodnight kiss?” he hedged, treading water.  
“Well, do you wanna do it in the hallway?”  
“With you I’d do it anywhere.”   
She blushed and he looked down sheepishly. They’d both felt that old spark ignite. Or maybe it had never gone out, just been forced to smoulder beneath the surface.  
He entered and she closed the door behind him as they faced each other in the entryway. As he’d done earlier, he reached out and took her hand, anchoring them to the moment, to each other. His other hand went to her face, cradling her soft cheek in his palm, and he took a step closer so that their bodies were almost touching. Her breasts brushed against his chest and he had to fight to not crush her to him.   
“What do you want, Gilly?” he asked softly, the tenderness in his eyes overwhelming her.  
She rose up on her toes, placing her free hand on his firm bicep to balance herself. Not breaking eye contact, she brushed her lips against his, her hot puffs of breath making the air damp and heady. He curled their intertwined hands around her back as the other went to her hip, his thumb rubbing circles into her flesh which were both soothing and arousing. Gently he captured her plump bottom lip between his own. A chaste goodnight kiss that a prom date may get away with on the front porch. But they both knew they weren’t kids anymore, and their minds swam with images much beyond childlike innocence. She responded, not wanting it to end, closing her lips on his top one with just the faintest hot swipe of her tongue.  
The softness was quickly forgotten and he pressed his mouth against hers insistently, bruisingly, over and over again. They breathed noisily through their noses as they fought the need to break away from each other. He needed her more than air. His mouth on hers was better than oxygen. The hand squeezing his arm snaked up to his neck, her fingers threading through the silky strands of hair at the base of his skull, feeling how he arched beneath her touch, figuring out the best angle to devour her from.   
Suddenly he took a step forward, pushing her body with his momentum until she found herself pressed between the hardness of the wall and the delicious heat of his body. She became aware of his erection pressing into the soft flesh of her belly and she gasped in surprise, her mouth disengaging from his with a wet pop. He didn’t skip a beat and began placing hot open mouthed kisses behind her ear, his nose buried in her golden hair, breathing in the smell distinctly her. Her breath hitched in her throat and her nails scratched the back of his neck encouragingly.   
“Oh,” she sighed. His tongue swiped her earlobe. “David.” His name was a prayer on her lips.   
He nipped his way back to her mouth and as soon as he reached her lips she thrust her tongue between his own and into the hot cavern inside, tasting him fully for the first time. He groaned into her, placing his hand flat against the wall above her head to brace himself as his hips ground into her, showing her how desperately his body craved hers, had always craved hers.   
Flashes of the past swam in his head: meeting her for the first time, doe eyed and giggly; her telling him she was pregnant and his legs buckling in surprise and delight; holding her shaky hand all night at the Globes after she announced her divorce; her screaming at him in a trailer after he didn’t invite her to his wedding, her cheeks as flaming red as her hair; running after her with a water gun in the desert while she was breathless and sweaty and more beautiful than ever; her emailing him saying she was moving to a different continent; seeing her pregnant with another man’s child in a purple dress and not being able to keep his eyes and hands off her while his wife wasn’t there to watch; teaching her dance moves in a parking lot in the middle of the night in Vancouver; and then tonight, her up on the stage, stealing his breath and his heart as she gave herself over to her performance.  
He pulled back, hands cupping her face, eyes drinking in her flushed cheeks, he swollen lips, her wet eyes that swallowed him whole every goddamn time.   
“Gilly,” he whispered.  
“We should stop...?” It was a question and her hands gave away her answer as they slid up his back to grip his shoulder blades through his shirt.   
“I don’t want to,” he began. “But I also can’t have this mean nothing. I can’t do that. Not now. Not with how far we’ve come.”  
She sucked in a breath, forcing herself to hold his gaze. “It could never mean nothing.” Then, “I’ve wanted this for so long, David.”  
He did all he could think to do and kissed her again for all he was worth.

* * *

They were on the large bed in her hotel room, both pairs of shoes haphazardly discarded. His shirt had also been removed at one point and he’d managed to drag the zipper down at the back of her dress but hadn’t quite managed to start pulling it from her body. He kept getting distracted with the little sounds and breathy sighs she made when he kissed her mouth or her neck or her collarbone. He was worshipping her body, taking his time, while she writhed in pleasure beneath his ministrations.   
“Ohhh,” she moaned as his hot tongue touched her heated skin and proceeded to leave a wet trail from her ear, down her throat, over her clavicle and towards the neckline of her dress. His hand came up to pull at the loose fabric and he continued to lick at the lace trim of her bra. She couldn’t help imagining what his tongue would feel like an inch or two lower, hot and wet on her nipple, an image that caused her to whimper and squeeze the hot skin at his waist.   
In no time he was back at her ear, breathing harshly. “Do you have any idea how good you taste? Do you know how fucking beautiful you are?” She whimpered again, shaking her head and squeezing her thighs together to ease the desperate ache between them. “No? You want me to tell you?” She nodded, biting her lip so hard she could almost taste blood. “Oh, Jesus, when you bite your lip like that all I wanna do is fuck you. Every time. Even when we were on set or doing press or whatever. It makes me so hard.” She moaned, pressing her nose against his neck, surrounding herself by his musky scent. “You wanna feel how hard you make me, baby? How much you turn me on?” She nodded again and he clasped her wrist, snaking it down between their bodies to settle on the hardness pressing against his jeans. She immediately began rubbing her hand up and down against his length, driving him crazy and making him hiss through his teeth at the relief. “God, Gilly. You make me so hard. Your legs, those gorgeous calves, I’d always imagined they’d be so so smooth.” He ran a hand from her ankle up to her bent knee, his calloused fingers a contrast to the silkiness of her bare skin. “Just a whiff of your perfume is enough to drive me crazy.”  
She hummed and began placing open mouth kisses on his neck and the stubble on his jaw, darting her tongue out occasionally to taste the bitterness of his cologne combined with the saltiness of his skin. Her hand against his cock felt like it was searing through the denim and he quickly reached down to pull it away lest the sensory overload make him embarrass himself. Had he known that tonight would be the night, he would have relieved himself earlier, but, it being them, nothing was predictable.  
She moved to sit up and began yanking the straps of her dress down her arms. He helped drag it over her hips and down her legs before letting it join the growing pile of clothing next to the bed. After dropping it he sat back on his haunches, slowly drinking in the vision before him. She was reclining gently against the pillows, blonde hair in mussed curls and face tinged pink, one leg stretched out and the other crooked at the knee. She wore a plain black bra and thong set, delicately trimmed with lace, but starkly contrasted by the flawless white porcelain of her skin. She was breathtaking. Deciding her couldn’t wait to press his skin against hers and cover her with the roughness of his body, he quickly kneeled up and undid his belt buckle, and sloppily but speedily forced his jeans down and off his legs. She held her arms up to him, spreading her legs slightly in invitation and he crawled forward to nestle his pelvis snugly in the cradle of her thighs.   
Her skin was hot against his own heated flesh, but there the similarity ended. She was all pale, smooth skin and soft curves and, oh my god, so small, and he was firm muscle, brawny, all angles and oversized limbs. He didn’t want to crush her but as soon as he was there, she muttered, “C’m’ere,” and tugged at his shoulders so that he was lying on top of her, only his forearms pressing into the soft mattress at either side of her head so that she didn’t suffocate. One of her hands rested at his lower back while the other came up to delicately trace a finger across his eyebrows, down his nose, over his mole. It came to rest on his lower lip and he kissed it gently as her wide eyes bored into his. She placed her hand on his bicep and he leaned down to place a series of soft kisses against her lips. Her tongue snaked out to meet his and, unable to hold back, he began a slow grind with his hips, his cock desperate for contact with the heat he could feel coming through her panties. At one point she bit his lip and his hips jolted against hers in response, his hardness bumping against her clit and they both groaned loudly into each other’s mouths.  
Eventually he pulled back with a groan. “Tell me what to do. What do you want? I wanna make you feel so good.”   
She bit her lip as he placed kisses along her temple, then whispered, “I want to be on top for a while.”   
Yeah, he could work with that. Gently, he slipped his arm around her waist while rolling over, pulling her weight on top of him. Her legs slid to either side of his and she began placing kisses along his jaw and down his neck towards his chest. She detoured to gently lick each of his nipples, making him spit a loud “Fuck!” before she continued her trail of kisses down the centre of his abdomen, dragging her lips over the ridges of his abs. As she reached his bellybutton, she sat up to straddle him and quickly unhooked her bra before flinging it to the floor. Her breasts, like the rest of her, were pale and full, and he wondered if they felt as soft as they looked. Her nipples stood at full attention, rosy and furled into tight little nubs. He wondered what they’d feel like beneath his tongue, if she’d cry out hoarsely when he bit down gently on them.   
He slid his hands up from her hips to hold the weight of her breasts gently in his palms. She bit her lip again, moaning softly. His thumbs strummed her nipples causing little jolts to course right down to her clit. She began rocking against him, desperate to relieve some of the ache, her breasts swaying with her motions. He could feel her wetness seeping from beneath her underwear onto the front of his boxers. He could smell her arousal and it made his mouth water. Unable to resist, he sat up, moving his hands back down to her waist, and darted his tongue out to lick around an areola. “Yesss,” she hissed, hands twined in his hair. He quickly sucked the nipple into his mouth, suckling rhythmically as she mewled and groaned above him. He switched to the other and the temp of her hips rising and falling against him increased. He sensed she was getting close and gripped her hips tightly as he began driving up against her.  
“Ohhh... Oh, David,” she cried.  
He detached from her breast with a final lick, lifting his chin so his lips could graze the shell of her ear. “Are you there, baby?” he murmured.  
“Yeahhh,” she moaned, eyes closed and brow furrowed in concentration as she ground her clit against his hardness. “I... Oh, God... I’m so... clooose. I just... I need...”  
“What do you need, Gilly?” he whispered, kissing the sweet spot behind her ear.  
Groaning in frustration she pulled his head to hers, thrusting her tongue into his mouth while her other hand slid down her taut stomach and into her underwear and she began rubbing a finger furiously against her clit. “Ahh, ahhhh,” she cried and her thighs started trembling.  
“Yes, baby, yes,” he whispered encouragingly into her mouth. “Fuck, I wanna see you come.”  
He continued kissing her as her body went stiff against him, as she released a long “Ohhhh fuuuuuck,” as she began to melt against him, panting and trembling violently in his arms, her thigh muscles contracting sporadically as the aftershocks tore through her. Her head dropped onto his shoulder and he kissed her sweaty temple gently, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her back as her shaking subsided.   
Eventually she pulled back, a gleam in her eye, and placed a soft kiss on his mouth, before pushing at his shoulders so that he lay down. She resumed her previous trail of kisses, following the line of hair that began just below his bellybutton and disappeared beneath the waistband of his boxers. She swiped her tongue beneath the elastic and at his groan slipped her fingers beneath it to drag it down and off his legs, revealing the taught firm flesh of his arousal to her hungry gaze. She crawled back up until she was level with it, licking a line from his base to the tip experimentally. He cursed loudly at a deity and brought a hand up to cradle her head. She moulded her fingers around the base to steady him as she brought her mouth to the head of his shaft, licking up the drop of precum at his slit before fully engorging him in the heat of her mouth. She started off slow, sucking so her cheeks hollowed and then releasing him, allowing the humid air to hit the velvety skin of his cock, sticky with her saliva. Soon her head was bobbing up and down rhythmically as her hand worked and massaged the length she couldn’t fit in her mouth. Her mouth felt like heaven on him, hot and wet, a prelude, he hoped, to the beautiful treasure between her legs, and he would’ve been in disbelief that Gillian Anderson was blowing him off had she not been doing such a fucking great job of it. He realised that his hips had started lifting off the bed in time with her down strokes and with it the tightening in his balls signalled that his release was fast approaching.  
“Gilly,” he whispered. “Baby, I’m getting close.” She seemed to ignore him. In fact, she seemed to be sucking with renewed vigour. “Shiiit, you feel so good, but... Oh, Jesus... Gilly, I wanna come inside you.”   
He continued pawing at her shoulders and eventually she disengaged, albeit regretfully, with a soft pop. She made quick work of slipping her underwear off and casting it overboard, much smoother than his own performance. He moved to pull her up his body but she withdrew, lying down next to him on her back, legs spread. “No, like this,” she commanded gently.   
He rolled on top of her, resuming their earlier position. She smiled up at him and he realised the gravity of what was about to happen, about what had been happening since the day they’d met. They were about to make love for the first time in the physical sense, but that didn’t mean that they hadn’t been emotionally fucking each other for a very long time.  
He reached down, dragging the head of his cock through her folds, coating himself in her ample wetness, then slowly began to slide into her. She was everything he had imagined. More. Hot and wet and, sweet fucking baby Jesus, so incredibly tight. He briefly worried that this was hurting her but her face and the soft noises escaping her plump parted lips spoke of nothing but pleasure. Once he was fully sheathed, he held still for a moment, wanting to absorb everything about this leap from colleagues, enemies, friends, to lovers. Christ, he loved her. Was in love with her. Wouldn’t stop loving her until death, and perhaps even into whatever came afterwards.  
She moaned loudly, bringing him back to earth, and started rocking her hips gently to let him know she was ready. Taking a deep breath and one more of her perfect kisses he began sliding out again, assuming a rhythm that was slow and deep. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and her legs at his waist, holding him to her, while his hand slid beneath her back, palms against her shoulder blades while his finger gripped over her shoulders for leverage as his thrusts began to pick up speed and force. The rhythmic slapping of the front of his thighs against the back of hers served as accompanying to the gasps and groans and curses and prayers that escaped them.   
She was soon reduced to a puddle of pure adrenaline and arousal, whimpering, “Uh, uh, uh,” every time he plunged back inside her. She was cruising along the plateau, waiting for the edge to take her. Recognising that she was close again by the way she trembled and panted beneath him he turned his head toward her ear.  
“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby,” he whispered through his harsh breathing. “I love fucking you. I don’t ever want to stop.” She groaned loudly, sinking her teeth into the tendons of his neck. “I want to feel you come on my dick.”  
And she did. Fireworks sparkled behind her eyelids and she faintly heard herself sobbing his name over and over through the roar of blood rushing through her ears. She slowly floated down to feel him kissing her cheek, whispering words of love and amazement. He was still moving on top of her but the rate and violence of his thrusts had dropped considerably. She decided that she couldn’t wait anymore to finally feel him come inside her.  
“Oh my god, David, you feel so good,” she hummed, clenching her inner muscles firmly around his engorged length, even as the fluttery aftershocks of her orgasm petered out within her. “Let go, baby. I want you to come in me. Take me, David.”  
He growled, leaning back on his haunches and gripping her hips tightly, before reverting to his frenzied pace. “Yes, Gilly,” he moaned, eyes closed. “I’m taking you. You’re mine. You’re mine.”  
He continued to pound into her and she imagined every slap of skin as a chant between them. Mine-mine-mine-yours-yours-yours. And as he let rip a broken cry as he began to spill into her she was overcome by a third unexpected orgasm. He collapsed on top of her, spent and breathless and she kissed his neck, his cheek, his ear, all the while whispering, “I’m yours, David. Oh, god, I’m yours.”

* * *

She awoke early, before dawn, to find two brown eyes staring at her. “Creep,” she yawned and he chuckled, voice deep from sleep. She ruffled her fingers through his hair. “Why are you awake so early?” she asked.  
He shrugged. “I just woke up. And then I saw you and I couldn’t look away.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “And the longer I looked, I realised I wanted to ask you something.”  
She raised an eyebrow.   
“I, uh... Um...” he stammered, nervous all of a sudden under her cool stare, even though her mascara was all around her eyes and her hair was a mess and she was bare ass naked.   
“Spit it out, Duchovny.”  
“I was wondering if... you’d like to go out on a date... sometime?”  
She let out a shriek of laughter. “Oh, my god,” she said between breathless giggles. “That’s what you woke me up so early for? Jesus Christ.”  
“Is that a yes?”  
“David, you made me come three times last night. Of course I’ll go on a date with you. If I ever allow you to leave my bed, that is.”  
He grinned.  
“Now, let me get some sleep. It’s my day off.”  
“Ooooh, no, not so fast,” he said, ignoring that she’d already closed her eyes again. “I want breakfast.”  
She cracked an eye open just in time to see him crawl down the bed, pulling the covers over his head.   
By the time the first rays of sun peaked through the curtains, he’d eaten his fill and she’d screamed his name. Twice.


End file.
